


ATTHS. Twice.

by Frangipanidownunder



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-27 15:40:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15027812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frangipanidownunder/pseuds/Frangipanidownunder
Summary: A/N: I have a secret and fervent desire to see a sex scene in the extras for the season 11 DVD release; and how GA and DD might have filmed something that was left on the cutting room floor. This fic was inspired by that stupid dream and is a missing scene for Plus One. NSFW.





	ATTHS. Twice.

Scully is wrapped under the sheet, elegant even in sleep. Her longer hair suits her. And it allowed Mulder more to gra…. Nope. That wasn’t in the script. Chris would never allow them to. But still, a fistful of hair, pulled in increments, the quiet scream from hair follicles that elicits that tingling reaction. It’s such a strange pleasure. A move that speaks both of trust and of baser instincts. And Mulder and Scully could run masterclasses in those elements of a relationship.

And Mulder, in that grey vest, chest hair peeping out, the look of a man freshly fu…Nope. That wasn’t in the script either. Although, the memory of his stubble scraping up her thighs and the flicker of his tongue at her clit was certainly making her tingle.

“So how did Scully swap sides on that pull-out bed?” she asks and David laughs, switching the monitor off.

“Don’t you remember?”

“Did they?”

“No, Chris wouldn’t allow it.”

“It wasn’t in the script, but did we…improvise?”

He chuckles. “Those two are very resourceful, aren’t they?”

She’s snug in his embrace, comfortable, familiar; something she hasn’t felt seen since the turn of the century. God, that makes her feel old. There were regular moments like this, where one or other of them would slip through the adjoining door and make life on the road a little more bearable. They called it the year of secret sex. The bureau, in essence, funded the shift in their status from platonic to unquenchable.

He whispers into her neck and her nipples tighten. His voice has deepened over the years and he’s thicker in middle. She turns to face him, lifting her feet to slide between his thighs. His skinny legs remind her that some things never change and before she can decide whether his kissing skills have remained the same, he’s pulling her towards his face, hand around her neck. There’s not much time between the first flush of heat between her legs and the feel of his cock hardening against her stomach.

“Not bad for an old man,” he says and she frees her feet to wrap her legs around him so that their pelvises fuse.

“There’s something to be said for frottage at our age,” she breathes into his ear.

“Mmmm, it certainly feels good to be doing this again, Agent Scully.” He grabs her ass and presses himself harder until the spasms of pleasure palpate down her legs.

She surprises herself with how nimbly she straddles him, friction sparking a fire between them. She doesn’t remember removing underwear. She doesn’t remember much other than the desperate clawing and guttural urging that punctuates their fucking. Because that’s what it is. And when she throws her head back, that’s when the weight of his hands on her breasts sends shockwaves of pleasure through her and before she can process that first climax, he’s lifted her under the arms until she is astride his face, working her clit with his nose as he sucks and licks and tastes with a greed that surpasses his younger self.

“Fuck, Mulder, how did I do without this all these years?”

He can’t answer because she’s squeezing him with her thighs and the feeling of his bristled chin between her ass cheeks is heaven or maybe hell, because surely this is sinful. Her quads scream and her glutes strain but the pay-off rolls in waves down her spine for dizzying minutes.

Pretty soon, she’s butting the headrest and he’s twining her hair through his fingers, exacting ecstatic pain with each thrust-and-pull. He’s kneeling behind her, pounding and yanking her hair and she’s having an out-of-body experience. The white light is beckoning for a third time and it’s only the familiar change in pace of Mulder’s breathing that tells her to wait, to hold off, so that they can ride this pleasure wave together. His hand snakes under her, reaching for a breast to grip and she’s flaming, pushing her ass back into him as he yells out. Quickly, she reaches her release, clamping around him. He lets her hair fall over her back and she feels him collapse behind her. She twists round to see him, dazed, chin slick, chest heaving, abs rock-hard. He takes his spent cock in his hand and offers her a decadent grin.

“Pretty good, Agent Scully.”

“Better than you expected, or better than you hoped?”

“I didn’t expect anything, Scully. And that’s the honest truth.”

She snuggles against him, sheet tucked under her chin, sated. For now.

Chris watches the roll-out bed scene play out.

“Do you think people will put two and two together? Scully is in a different spot. It’s pretty low-key. I’m proud of how clever I’ve been, making sure that it’s something so subtle that most people probably wouldn’t even notice it. I don’t want to broadcast it to the world. I mean, it should be left to the viewer’s imagination. But we need to drop some hints as to the changing nature of their relationship. I want people to believe that they come kissing close, just to get the balance between the mytharc and the love interest right.”

Gillian pats him on the knee. “I think that when Mulder washes his chin, people will come up with four, Chris.”

Chris curls his lips. “But that’s not what happened. Mulder didn’t…Scully would never…”

Gillian giggles, her fluttering laugh pealing around the room until the rest of the crew are in stitches too.

“What?” Chris asks, raising his hands.

David claps him on the back. “Don’t worry about it, friend. There’s nothing in the edit that will lead people to believe that anything out of the ordinary happened. Viewers are mostly interested in the case-files. Shippers are so last century.”

Chris leaves the room and David sits next to Gillian. They watch the final scene, turn to each other and smile.

“ATTHS,” she says.

“Twice,” he adds.


End file.
